


Sneezles and Wheezles

by Somniare



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“James, lad.”  Robbie laid a hand on James’s arm and, keeping his voice low and calm, asked, “Have you been here all weekend, lad?”  James nodded weakly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sneezles and Wheezles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Barcardivodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcardivodka/gifts).



> Written to a prompt from barcardivodka.  
> Many thanks to paperscribe for a quick beta and very helpful suggestions. It has been tweaked and all errors are all mine.

 

* * *

 

  
After a fun but exhausting weekend away to celebrate Laura's sister's fiftieth birthday, Robbie Lewis could barely hold back his sigh of relief as they approached the house; it was good be home.  A small hand squeezed his thigh and he glanced at Laura who smiled tiredly back.  
  
“I wonder how James and Monty got on,” Robbie mused.  James had stepped in at the last minute to look after Monty and keep an eye on the house when their original house and cat minder – their neighbour, Meredith – had fallen and severely twisted her knee.  It had been James’s suggestion that he stay at the house, rather than simply driving by to feed the cat and check the doors and windows.  
  
“I’m off for the weekend as well and Monty might like the company,” James had reasoned.  
  
Laura laughed softly.  “Two long-limbed, independent introverts sprawled on the couch with the telly and a book?  That’s quite possibly James’s idea of a perfect weekend.”  
  
“You could be right.  The pair of them always managed to take up the whole couch at the flat.  I was just wondering if Monty had played up at all.”  
  
Monty had been acting a little out of character in the lead-up to the weekend, but Laura’s take on it had been that he knew they were going away and was trying to make them feel guilty.  
  
“I’m sure James would have messaged one of us if he was concerned by anything.”  
  
“Aye, I suppose so.  Here we are; home, sweet home.”  Robbie peered through the side window of the car.  “Is that Meredith?”  He was surprised to see their neighbour hobbling precariously on crutches along the footpath to meet them.  Laura hurried out of the car.  
  
As the two women spoke, Robbie removed their bags from the boot.  Laura approached with a worried frown.  
  
Robbie stepped towards her.  “Something wrong, love?”  
  
Laura nodded, her eyes grave.  “Meredith’s spent most of her time staring out her front window but hasn't seen James go in or out of the house since we left.  She’s certain his car hasn’t been moved, and the front room lamp's been on the whole time as far as she can tell.”  
  
With no idea what they might find, Robbie followed Laura as she hurried into the house.  
  
“My God, James!”  
  
At Laura’s cry, Robbie dropped the bags, kicked the front door shut and rushed into the front room.  
  
There he found Laura crouched beside the couch where James was folded up under a blanket.  Robbie quickly counted eight empty plastic water bottles on the side table and floor, and a small bin full of used tissues.  James looked dreadful: pale, sweaty, and shivering.  Laura’s hand was pressed to his forehead, and she quietly hushed James when he tried to speak.  Monty was curled on the couch in the hollow created by the curve of James’s body.  The cat sneezed loudly and meowed pitifully.  Robbie gently scooped up Monty, cradling him in his lap as he settled carefully on the edge of the couch.  
  
“James, lad.”  Robbie laid a hand on James’s arm and, keeping his voice low and calm, asked, “Have you been here all weekend, lad?”  James nodded weakly.  
  
Laura rose to her feet.  “Stay with him, Robbie, I’ll be back in a tick.”  She disappeared up the stairs, all tiredness seemingly gone from her body.  
  
Monty meowed sadly once again.  
  
“He’s been like that since last night,” James rasped.  
  
“James...”  Robbie didn’t know what to do or say first.  He wanted to scoop James up, as he had Monty, and try to comfort him in some small way, but he didn’t have to think hard to imagine James’s indignation.  “Why didn’t you call one of us, lad?  We would have come home early.  You know we would have.”  
  
“I was–”  
  
“Robbie, leave the poor boy in peace.”  Laura appeared at the side of the couch, scolding gently.  Her hands were full with various items from the bathroom cabinet.  “If you call the vet about Monty, I’ll see to getting James more comfortable.”  She bent down and kissed Robbie.  “Please?”  
  
Robbie nodded but looked to James before he stood up.  When James bobbed his head, Robbie headed to the kitchen.  He stood in the doorway as he spoke to a veterinary nurse, watching Laura as she tended to James.  For a doctor he thought she made an excellent nurse.  Robbie was sure even his Lyn would approve.  He returned to the front room when Laura struggled to help James sit up.  
  
“Up to the spare room?” Robbie asked.  
  
Laura nodded, her expression grateful as Robbie passed Monty to her.  “What did the vet say?”  
  
“I’ll have to take him in.  Could be a couple of things, but they won’t know without seeing him.”  Robbie slipped his arm under James’s raising him slowly to a sitting position, then to his feet.  James’s lack of protest concerned Robbie more than the raging heat coming from his body.  He looked worriedly at Laura.  
  
She pressed her lips together.  “James has a fever, but his chest and sinuses are clear.  What he needs is ibuprofen and sleep in a proper bed.”  
  
“You’re the doctor,” Robbie murmured.  
  
Laura rolled her eyes.  “Would I let anything happen to James?”  
  
“I am here, you know,” James mumbled.  
  
“Aye, lad, that you are.  Let’s get you upstairs, eh?”  
  
James nodded and let himself be half-carried.  Laura followed.  
  
Once Robbie had helped James remove his jeans and shirt, and settled him in the bed in the spare bedroom right next to his and Laura's, he took Monty from Laura and reluctantly left.  He hoped Laura was right.  
  
****  
  
Two hours later Robbie found himself back at the house with Monty now sleeping quietly in his carrier.  Laura was coming down the stairs.  
  
“How is he?”  They spoke in unison.  
  
“You first,” Robbie said.  
  
“James is resting.  The ibuprofen seems to have helped.  And Monty?”  
  
“Inner ear infection, believe it or not.  They gave him some intravenous antibiotics, but he’s tablets to take over the next seven days.”  Robbie grimaced.  “Better look out the gardening gloves; the last time I had to give him tablets he nearly shredded me fingers”  
  
Laura peered into the carrier.  “He doesn’t look too bothered.”  
  
“They had to give him a sedative to get the antibiotics in.”  
  
“Right.”  Laura’s nose wrinkled.  “Thank God James will be easier to medicate.”  
  
Robbie snorted a laugh then yawned widely.  “It’s been a bloody long day.  Bed?”  
  
Laura stretched up and kissed him.  “Sounds lovely.  Did you want a cuppa first?”  
  
“Nah.”  Robbie smiled fondly.  “I’ll settle Monty in his basket and be up in a bit.”  
  
James started coughing as Robbie reached the top of the stairs.  Robbie winced at the harsh sound but waved Laura back when she emerged from the bedroom.  
  
“I’ll see to him, love.  Hopefully won’t be long.”  
  
Robbie’s hand hesitated over the light switch.  There was enough light from the hallway for him to see the state James was in.  The coughs racked James’s thin frame – body shaking, gut heaving coughs.  
  
Robbie was at James’s side in an instant, helping him to sit up.   
  
“There you go, lad.”  Robbie held him close, supporting him and stroking his back through the fit.  James eventually dropped against Robbie’s side with a soft groan.   
  
“I’m sorry to be–”  
  
“Hush, lad.  Nothing to be sorry for; you can’t help being sick.”  Robbie continued to rub slow circles against James’s back and was rewarded as he felt the tension leave James.  “Anything else you need?  Laura’s left water and ibuprofen if you need those during the night.”  
  
James glanced at him shyly.  “Erm, could you...”  He ducked his head.  “I need the loo but I don’t trust my legs.”  
  
“Come on, then.  On your feet.”  He helped James into the bathroom and waited outside until he heard the toilet flush and the tap start to run.  He tapped on the door and waited for James to answer before entering.  “All right?”  
  
“Yes.  Thanks.”  
  
James shuffled back to the bedroom, allowing Robbie to support him, and once in bed settled back against the pillows with a soft groan.  
  
“All right, lad?”  
  
James smiled.  It could have been a grimace; Robbie wasn’t sure.  He stepped towards the bed.  
  
“I’ll be all right,” James murmured, closing his eyes.  “Isn’t Laura waiting for you?”  
  
“Goodnight, James, lad.  Call out if you need anything.”  
  
James smiled, keeping his eyes closed, and gave a slight wave of his hand.  “Goodnight.”  
  
Laura was sitting up waiting for him.  She raised her eyebrows in a query.  
  
“He says he’ll be all right.”  Robbie started to undress, toeing off his shoes as he unbuttoned his shirt.  
  
“He will be, Robbie.  I’m confident it’s nothing worse than a heavy cold.  Sleep, rest, and food and he’ll be on his feet in no time.”  
  
“You’d better feed him then.  If it’s up to me it’ll be egg and chips.”  Robbie slipped under the bed clothes and pulled Laura into his arms.  She pressed a hand to his chest and stared at him thoughtfully.  
  
“You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”  
  
“Aren’t you?” Robbie queried.  
  
“Yes, but not quite as much as you.  What concerns you most?”  
  
“Not a snarky word from him.  James hates being sick or being helped, yet he’s accepted everything we’ve done without a single deprecating or snarky remark.  That’s not right.”  
  
“Robbie Lewis, you astound me sometimes.”  
  
“What have I done this time?”  
  
“Did it not occur to you that James feels safe here, safe enough to let himself be vulnerable?”  
  
“Oh.”  Robbie blinked slowly.  “That’s... that’s good.”  A slow warmth filled him and he smiled.  
  
Laura kissed him slowly.  “He loves you, you know.  In his own way.”  
  
“I know.  The feeling’s mutual.”  Robbie realised what he’d said, and how it could be misconstrued.  “That is... I mean...”  
  
Laura pressed a finger to his lips.  “I know.  I love him too.”  She wriggled down in the bed, pulling Robbie with her.  “Now, sleep, Mr Lewis.  You’ll be no use to James – or me– in the morning if you don’t.”  
  
Robbie wrapped his arms around Laura, drawing her to his body.  “You’re positive it’s just a cold.”  
  
“I’m confident there’s nothing wrong with James that can’t be cured with a little TLC, but if there’s no significant improvement by the morning I’ll drive him to A&E myself.”  
  
Satisfied, Robbie nuzzled her neck, closed his eyes, and let himself drift off.  
  
****  
  
Robbie’s eyes snapped open and he listened carefully.  James was coughing again.  Laura lay motionless in a deep sleep.  Oh, how Robbie envied her ability to sleep so soundly.  James’s coughing continued.  Robbie gingerly pulled his arm from under Laura’s side and, getting out of bed as quietly as he could, went to see to James.  He stood at the side of James’s bed and gently pressed the back of his hand against James’s forehead.  He was clammy and shivering, the cough dry and harsh.  
  
“James?” Robbie whispered.  
  
James’s eyes fluttered open, though Robbie doubted he saw him.  When James rolled away from him, exposing his damp back to the cool night air, Robbie instinctively climbed into bed and took him in his arms, as he’d done with his own children in years past, as he’d done with his wee grandson on his last visit to Manchester when the young boy had been unwell.  James turned in towards him, reinforcing the image of caring for his children in Robbie’s mind.  He knew James would probably be appalled by the comparison but also he also wondered how often anyone had truly cared for James at any time.  Robbie strongly believed James’s fierce independence, what almost amounted to an inability to rely on others, must have formed in his childhood.  Robbie wanted to give James whatever comfort he was willing to receive.  
  
He brushed his fingers across James’s brow.  James murmured, a comfort seeking sound, and nuzzled closer.  Fragments of a child’s poem surfaced in Robbie’s memory.  
  
 _“_ _Christopher Robin_  
 _Had wheezles_  
 _And sneezles,_  
 _They bundled him_  
 _Into_  
 _His bed._  
 _They gave him what goes_  
 _With a cold in the nose,_  
 _And some more for a cold_  
 _In the head...”_  
  
****  
  
Robbie opened his eyes to a room bathed in soft morning light.  Beside him, James’s long body was loosely curled and he was sleeping peacefully.  Robbie felt James’s forehead and was relieved to find he was much cooler.  
  
“How is he?”  Laura was leaning against the door frame.  
  
“Fever’s gone.”  Robbie swung his legs out of the bed, taking care not to disturb James, and went to Laura.  “Sorry I left you on your own last night.”  
  
“Don’t be.”  She kissed him.  “James needed you.”  
  
“Thanks, love.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“Understanding.”  
  
Laura gave him an indulgent smile.  “I accepted a long time ago that you and James were a bit of a package deal.  C’mon, let’s leave him in peace.  If you want to get dressed, I’ll get breakfast started.”  
  
With another brief kiss, Laura left Robbie standing halfway between the door and James’s bedside.  Robbie glanced back at the bed to find James gazing steadily at him.  
  
“Mornin’, lad.”  
  
“You stayed with me,” James murmured.  “In bed.”  
  
“I did.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Thought it might help.  Sorry if I was out of line.”  
  
James smiled fondly.  “You weren’t.  Kindness is never out of line.  Thank you, Robbie.”  
  
There was more said in the heartbeat of silence which followed than Robbie knew he would ever have words for, so he said simply, “You’re all right, lad,” in the sure and certain knowledge James would understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: Lewis/Hobson, Hathaway and Monty are sick, min 500 words
> 
> The poem Robbie recites is [_Sneezles_](http://allpoetry.com/Sneezles) by AA Milne.


End file.
